Operation Babe-Magnet: Operation Babe-Magnet / Operation Beauty

“Mrs. Herbert Dalrymple.”

Dexter began writing in a neat, even script. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dalrymple.” He signed the name Harry Hanover with a flourish, then handed it to her. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Oh, I won’t be reading it,” she explained. “My refrigerator has been sitting crooked for over a year and I believe this little book is just the right size to even it out.”

Dexter’s smile faded. “I see.”

Mrs. Dalrymple reached out to gently pat his hand. “If I ever buy a new refrigerator, perhaps I’ll read it then. I’m sure it’s very good.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, as she walked away. Then he looked up at Kylie. “Just go with it? Did you know that woman was planning to kiss me?”

“Not until a few minutes ago. Bob just told me about the raffle. Besides, I assumed that you’ve kissed lots of women in your profession, so you wouldn’t need any advance notice.”

“Thanks,” he said, dabbing at his lower lip. “Thanks a lot.”

“It will be better next time. We’ll be more prepared.”

“How?” he asked, shoving his handkerchief back into his pocket. “It should be obvious by now that I don’t know anything about How To Jump-Start Your Love Life.”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” she said, resisting the urge to scrub that woman’s lipstick off his mouth. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

4

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN working for Studs-R-Us?” Kylie asked, handing him a glass of wine.

They hadn’t said a word about the disaster at The Book Attic on the drive back to Pittsburgh. Dexter had wondered if Kylie was rethinking her plan to have him impersonate Harry Hanover, until she invited him up to her apartment to review the next week’s schedule.

“We’re not allowed to reveal any personal information.” He sat sprawled on a blue beanbag chair in her living room, his long legs bent at an uncomfortable angle. Kylie and her roommate had an eclectic array of inflatable furniture and beanbag chairs scattered around the living room. Which only reinforced his belief that Kylie had sunk more money than she wanted to admit into her brother’s floundering business.

She blinked at his terse reply. “Oh.”

“It’s company policy.”

She took a seat on the purple inflatable sofa. “Well, I suppose I can understand that. Although, I have to say that for a gigolo, you’re not quite what I expected.”

He didn’t like her tone.

“What exactly did you expect?”

She cleared her throat. “Well, please don’t take offense, Harry. I’m not criticizing you. I suppose I had a certain stereotype of a gigolo in my mind and you’re…not it.”

Harry. She insisted on calling him that name, even when they were alone together. He didn’t like it. “That doesn’t mean I can’t do the job.”

“But look what happened this afternoon.”

His jaw tightened. “That woman caught me completely off guard. But I can assure you I do know how to kiss, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried,” she assured him with a smile. “I have faith in you, Harry.”

His irritation faded under glow of her smile. He took another sip of wine and told himself to relax. Kylie might be disappointed in his job performance, but at least she was willing to give him another chance.

She set down her wineglass. “I think we should practice kissing. Just so you’re fully prepared if it happens again.”

His pulse picked up a notch as his gaze fell to her lips. They were full and pink. Inviting. And he’d just been issued an invitation. “You’re the boss.”

“Good. Let’s start with a refresher course.” She picked up a copy of Hanover’s book and flipped through the pages. “There are some great pointers in chapter three.”

“Pointers?” Dexter echoed, realizing he must have misunderstood her. “You think I need pointers?”

“I think you should be familiar with Harry’s tutorial on kissing. We want your method to match the book.”

Tutorial? This was ridiculous. He’d been mauled by a strange woman in a bookstore and Kylie was concerned because he hadn’t seduced the woman on the spot. But before he could explain that he’d never had any complaints about his kisses, she began reading aloud from How To Jump-Start Your Love Life.

“The right kiss will make your lady purr like the engine of a Lamborghini,” Kylie looked up at him. “Harry likes to draw a lot parallels between romance and auto mechanics to make it more comprehensible to male readers.”

“Fascinating,” Dexter said dryly.

“There are three key components to remember when striving for the perfect kiss. Proximity, pressure and pizzazz.”

“Should I be taking notes?” he asked, finding this entire conversation ludicrous. He was twenty-eight years old. Did she really believe he that needed remedial lessons in romance?

“That’s not a bad idea,” she replied, then pointed to the end table. “There should be a pencil and notepad in the drawer.”

Well, at least that answered his question. He didn’t move from the beanbag chair. “I think I can keep it all in my head. I just have to remember the three Ps. Proximity, pressure and pizzazz.”

“Very good,” she replied, then turned back to the book and continued reading. “Proximity is the most important of these three vital components. A man should immediately establish the dominant role, invoking the image of both protector and pursuer.”

“Okay, now we’re up to five Ps.” Dexter said, leaning back in the beanbag chair. “Proximity, pressure, pizzazz, protector and pursuer. I take it Hanover is a big fan of alliteration.”

Kylie dropped the book in her lap. “I’m not sure I agree with that bit about the dominant role. And I certainly don’t remember reading anything about it in the first draft. Maybe there was an editing mistake.”

“It sounds fine to me.”

She frowned. “You believe men should play the dominant role in a relationship?”

“That’s not what the book says,” he replied evenly, warming up for a good debate. He’d been a state champion in forensics in high school. “Hanover clearly states that the man should establish the dominant role during the kiss. That he should take on his natural role of pursuer. Since the beginning of time, men have been the hunters, pursuing their prey. A thousand years ago they hunted the water buffalo. Today it’s the woman.”

She arched a brow. “And you don’t find that attitude at all sexist?”

“Hey, you’re the one who hired a gigolo. Don’t you think that’s sexist? You even gave me a makeover so women would find me more appealing.”

“You were appealing before,” she countered, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of pink. “But image is everything in this business, and you looked more like a power broker than the author of a book on romantic relationships.”

“So who do you like better?” he asked, taking a sip of his wine. “The old Dexter Kane or the new Harry Hanover?”

She picked up the book and held it in front of her, making it impossible for him to see her face. “I think we’ve gotten off the subject.”

Dexter opened his mouth, then closed it again. Maybe he didn’t really want to know her answer. “Then let’s move on to the next P. It’s presumptuous, isn’t it?”